Bound by fire, Claimed by love

Evelyn sat in her chambers, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the walls. Rolls of silk, lace, and embroidery samples lay untouched on the table before her. The dressmaker, personally sent by Damian, had left hours ago, yet her thoughts remained tangled.

They had promised.

He had promised.

"I want to choose everything together," he had told her, his voice warm with affection that night under the moonlit garden. "From the flowers at our wedding to the embroidery on your gown."

Yet now, he hadn't come.

Instead, his people arrived with carefully curated selections, all approved by him. Beautiful, expensive, and elegant—yet they felt distant.

Had he truly been so busy? Or… had something changed?

Evelyn shook her head, scolding herself for the thought.

No. Damian loved her. She knew this.

But then why did this lingering unease refuse to fade?

Her fingers traced the delicate fabric before her, yet her mind wandered to the way Damian had acted these past few days. Distant. Thoughtful. Almost as if something weighed on him.

She wanted to ask. To demand answers.

But what if she didn't like what she found?

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"My lady, shall I bring your tea?" a maid called.

Evelyn exhaled, pushing her doubts aside.

"Yes… please."

Tonight, she would let it be.

But tomorrow?

Tomorrow, she would find out what Damian Vale was hiding.